As y'all may surmise when you see pictures of Bean, we get a lot of comments and questions about her wild blonde curly locks when we're out and about - particularly when it's just the two of us. In fact, if I had a dime for every time someone's commented on Bean's hair in the past three years, I'd have Harvard or Yale paid for by now.
Possibly even a post-grad degree or two.
Yesterday we ran out to the grocery store To Pick Up a Few Things, and The Hair stole the show as usual.
At the photography counter. (Behind/under which are hidden the memory cards for digital cameras. Which makes my method of locating the kind I need - the well-um-NO-I-don't-have-any-idea-what-KIND-it-takes, I'll-just-know-it-when-I-see-it method - impossible to perpetrate without involving and spending an afternoon with a helpful salesperson.)
Salesperson to Bean: Where did you get all that beautiful curly hair?
Bean: I got it from my beautiful Mama's hay-yer!
Salesperson looks directly at my head with bold-faced, 72 pt. Helvetica question mark affixed to her forehead.
NOT! she clearly posits to herself.
Me: She got it from her Daddy. He has very curly hair.
Salesperson: Oh! Well, it MUST BE!
She drags an armload of various memory cards up to the countertop and I dig through them and finally locate the-one-that-looks-like-a-tiny-rectangular-slice-of-cheese-with-a-little-bite-taken-out-of-the-corner and the salesperson begins to ring it up for me. The whole while, the salesperson continues to examine Bean's hair.
Salesperson: Sooooooo... what um... Nationality... is her father?
Me: Oh. He's just a plain old American black guy.
Minutes later, at the FOOD check-out counter:
Salesperson to Bean: MY, you certainly have a lot of pretty curls!
Bean: Thank you.
Packaging Technician at End of Belt, looking directly at my head: Did YOU have pretty hair when you were... younger?